Trapped
by horanfromhell
Summary: Stiles was trapped. Figuratively and literally. Sterek bromance, no slash!
1. Chapter 1

_So this story is just going to be bromantic. If you squint really hard, you might see some Sterek, but that wasn't my intention :) I just love the bromance between them. Also, the pack is not the main focus, the bromance is. So don_'_t expect much pack action. HAVE FUN!_

* * *

CHAPTER 1

The pack was relaxing and enjoying their Sunday evening in the woods. The wolves had been play-fighting with one another for hours. When he wasn't playing on his cell phone, Stiles cheered on whichever wolf seemed to be winning at the moment. Derek was content watching his pack, and making mental notes on how to improve their fighting strategy.

Derek had suggested they go deep into the forest rather than staying on the outskirts, in an attempt to lay low and refrain from drawing attention to themselves.

They'd agreed, and spent a good half hour walking aimlessly, claiming to be searching for the perfect place to train, but actually joking, tripping, and playfully pushing each other around. They were bonding, and Derek was proud.

When they'd finally gotten tired of wandering, they chose a secluded part of the woods with little foliage so they'd have a clear battleground.

It was the fourth time Erica and Boyd were loudly and viciously battling, that the gunshots rang out in the woods, about a mile from where the pack was currently situated.

Erica was the one to silence her pack mates, with a low growl. "I think we've got ourselves a group of _hunters._" She practically snarled, looking to Derek for confirmation.

Derek's face tightened, but he curtly nodded, leaning his head a little bit more to the side, as if it would help him hear them better. Apparently, it did, for his next words jolted his betas out of their semi-relaxed state. "Judging by their scent and the amount of noise they're making, they aren't coming this way for a friendly chat. We've got to get moving; we've got less than ten minutes."

"How could they possibly know we'd be here?" Isaac questioned, looking confused.

Derek solemnly shook his head. "It's possible someone heard us fighting and tipped them off. Or we just got lucky and they randomly chose to head this way. It doesn't matter now either way; we've got to go."

Scott leaped up to Derek's side, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Is it the Argents?"

Derek shook his head and Scott visibly relaxed. Allison was visiting her godmother in Florida this weekend, and Scott would hate to get into a confrontation with her family while she wasn't even in the state.

"No," Derek spoke quickly, "these hunters sound rowdy and untrained. I don't think they have a plan. And that makes them even more dangerous."

At this point, Boyd, Isaac, Erica, and Scott were on their feet, awaiting instructions from Derek. He opened his mouth to speak, when he realized Stiles was not in front of him.

He turned around to see Stiles relaxing on the floor, leaning up against a tree, tongue sticking out of his mouth while he concentrated completely on something that was on the screen of the cell phone in his hand.

"What are you _**doing**_?" Derek growled, eyes flaring red. Stiles didn't even look up when he waved Derek away with his hand, muttering something about "found my dad's old cell yesterday" and "have you heard of this game?...it's called Snake."

Derek closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened them again, the red was no longer there. He crossed the space between himself and Stiles in less than a second, snatched the phone from the teenager, and threw it to the ground.

"Hey-!" Stiles started to protest, but was cut short when Derek grabbed him by the scruff of his red hoodie, lifted him off of the ground, and dragged him across the field to stand next to Scott.

"As I was saying," Derek continued, looking pointedly at Stiles, "we need to move. We stay in pairs; no one is left alone. We need to watch out for each other. Since its getting dark out, we will have the advantage of being able to identify hiding places the hunters won't be able to see. I want to surround the hunters from all angles and find out what they're carrying and why they're here. If we split up, we can cover more ground and hopefully even throw them off of our trails. If you can evade the hunters without hurting them, do so. But if you think you're in any danger, protect yourself however you must. Whatever you do, stay with your buddy. And don't get trapped in one big group; if we stay away from each other, they won't be able to surround us."

Derek took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. "Erica, I want you to buddy up with Boyd. Scott, stay with Isaac. Stiles, you're with me."

The betas all nodded, while Stiles stood next to them looking horrified. "Why me?" he whined. Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the teen's dramatic reaction, but explained his reasoning anyway. "Boyd is strong; Erica is smart. They mesh well. Scott is fast; Isaac is stealthy. They make a good team. You are human; I am the alpha. If anyone's going to get you out of a deadly situation, it's going to be me."

Stiles looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "I see your point."

Another gunshot rang out from the woods, much closer this time.

"Time to move." Derek growled.

* * *

The three groups split up in all different directions, moving fast.

Well, two of the three were moving fast.

The third was moving at a slow but steady pace.

Stiles was running as quickly as he possibly could, but he could tell they weren't making much progress.

"I think I should find a place to hide." Stiles huffed out, head bowed to the floor, hands on his knees, and his heart pounding incredibly loudly in his chest.

Derek felt for the kid, but he needed to put some distance between them and the approaching hunters. "No, we haven't gotten far enough away yet, Stiles. They'll find us in an instant. I don't know what kind of weaponry they're carrying, and until we have the upper hand, I won't know how to keep everyone safe." Derek explained, surprising Stiles with his moment of honesty. "If we can wear them out and wait until dark...I'll be able to see the hunters without them seeing me. Or you. While it's still light out, we've got to keep moving."

Stiles groaned but obliged, straightening himself up. Derek gave the teen an appreciative nod, and turned to lead the way. Stiles had only walked a few steps when his toe caught a protruding branch and he was sent sprawling on the forest floor.

"AAH!" Stiles cried, chin slamming into the ground. Derek whirled around, eyes wide, looking for signs of danger he must have somehow missed. When he spotted Stiles on the floor nursing his chin, he chuckled, but leaned down to match the boy's height.

"You okay?" The Alpha asked, smirking, yet somehow managing to look sympathetic.

He stood up and reached out a hand to pull Stiles from the floor. Stiles took Derek's outstretched arm and righted himself, but it seemed like a millisecond later that everything happened simultaneously.

Stiles heard a branch snap. Both human and Alpha looked up. Derek roared louder than Stiles had ever heard before. Stiles felt himself being shoved sideways by the Alpha.

"GO, STILES, RUN! **NOW!**"

It was a miracle Stiles stayed upright. He sprinted the way Derek had pushed him, and it was mere seconds later when he heard at least a dozen gunshots ring out, and a pained grunt emitted from Derek.

Stiles stopped dead in his tracks and spun around, his wide eyes finding Derek's.

Derek roared at the stupid teenage boy. Why couldn't he ever listen to what he was told? Didn't he know that Derek only does what he does to keep him safe?

Apparently not, since Stiles was inching his way back into the line of fire.

"STILES, I'M FINE. THEY'RE REGULAR BULLETS. GET OUT OF HERE, _NOW_. I'm going to hold them off."

Stiles hesitated, seemingly having an internal struggle. In the end, he locked eyes with Derek, with a look that said "I'm sorry," and he ran in the opposite direction of the Alpha.

* * *

The rest of the pack heard the commotion, but could not help their leader, as they were having trouble of their own and had specific instructions to stay away.

Apparently there were more hunters than they had anticipated.

Whether they showed up to the party late, or the wolves hadn't interpreted the situation correctly, they couldn't be sure.

But they knew they were outnumbered, and if Derek wanted these hunters alive, the pack was going to have to lay low and find a place to hide.

They could only hope their Alpha knew what he was getting into.

* * *

Derek was healing, and fast. But not fast enough. He _had_ been shot multiple times at a close range, he reminded himself.

But as soon as he heard a muttered "find the human" from one of the hunters' mouths, he was back on his feet, springing into action.

He took a step toward the group of hunters, but before he could get any closer, one of the younger men in their group whipped out a taser and shocked Derek back into submission.

The electrical voltage on the weapon was immense, and Derek was struggling to keep conscious.

The hunter holding the taser grinned at Derek. "Well, well, well, wolfman. Now that we know the kid means something to you, we've got to go find him. Thanks so much for that helpful information."

Derek couldn't believe it. His blind fear for Stiles' safety was going to be the same thing that got Stiles killed. He wanted to kick himself. He had to get out of this situation immediately and go help his human pack member.

But the moment he made a movement, he found himself lying flat on his back, having been shocked once again.

"BEN! EMILIO! Go find that kid!" Derek vaguely heard a gruff voice, belonging to the male holding the taser, shout to his fellow hunters.

Derek wouldn't allow it.

He wouldn't let them hurt Stiles on his watch.

If he could only just regain enough strength to fight off the hunter with the taser...

But all thoughts of this were diminished when the hunter shocked the already weakened werewolf fully into unconsciousness.

* * *

Stiles was so tired.

He felt like he'd been running all night, but he knew in actuality he couldn't have run more than a half a mile. A mile at most.

He slowed to a walk, looking at his surroundings, and gulped.

It was getting dark, and he was starting to worry.

Was Derek okay? Why hadn't he come to find Stiles yet?

Where was the rest of the pack? Were they okay wherever they were? He hoped they were hiding.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear someone approach him from the darkness of the trees.

"Well, look what we have here. You must be the boy who runs with wolves. And what an ironic fashion statement you seem to be making." Said an older, graying, man, pointing a shotgun right at Stiles' chest.

Stiles' eyes widened impossibly as he took a step back.

"I-no-_look_, I don't know what you want, but we don't want any trouble. So if you could just-"

Stiles was cut off when the older man started to chuckle.

"Don't bother pleading. You might be human, but you are protected by wolves. That makes you one of them. You're as good as dead." The hunter smiled evilly, pushing the shotgun hard into Stiles' chest, making the boy stumble a bit. Stiles knew he had to think fast. He was either going to be held hostage or killed.

And neither of those options sounded too terribly exciting to him at the moment.

Feigning a clumsy misstep due to the gun being pressed into him, Stiles purposely fell backward onto the ground, clutching at the forest floor.

He grabbed a fistful of dirt, and tried to bargain with the hunter once more, as a distraction.

"I'm serious dude, don't kill me. These werewolves are nothing if not loyal, and man, they would be so pissed if I died." Stiles shrugged his shoulders, standing up, hiding the fist full of dirt behind his back.

The hunter tilted his head back and let out a hearty laugh, but as soon as he looked down at the teen again, the man wielding the shotgun was temporarily blinded by Stiles' ingenious idea.

The hunter was coughing and choking and screaming about not being able to "SEE SHIT," so Stiles took the opportunity to run as far from the man with the gun as he could.

From behind him, he could hear, "BEN! GET THE FUCK OVER HERE! THE BRAT IS TRYING TO ESCAPE!"

Stiles took that as his cue to run faster.

Every few seconds he would peek behind him to see how much space he'd put between himself and the hunters. Stiles couldn't see them, but he could definitely hear them.

And if he could hear that, in hindsight, he should have been able to hear the loud ass river that just happened to be directly in front of him, thirty feet down. The water was moving fast, and at this time of the year, he could be certain it would be cold as hell.

Stiles was forced to stop at the edge of the cliff, unwilling to jump into that watery death trap, but unable to go back the way he came. When he heard the sound of footsteps slowing down right behind him, he closed his eyes, resigned, and turned around to face his assailants.

"HAH, we've got you now, boy. Did you really think you were gonna get away?" said a new hunter, one Stiles had not yet had contact with.

The one with the shotgun was right behind his friend. "You are gonna pay for what you pulled back there, you little shit." he growled, cocking the shotgun.

It went off.

Stiles felt a pain in his leg unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

He screamed.

* * *

It was an utterly heartbreaking scream, and it seemed to shake the entire forest.

It shook Derek to his core.

He could hear Stiles' pain, resonating in his head.

The boy was distraught, for what reason, Derek did not know.

But he knew he had to get to him, and fast.

With a strength he didn't know he possessed, he changed into his full Alpha form, tearing himself away from the electrical current that was previously incapacitating him.

And he ran.

He ignored the hunters' yells of protest, ignored the bullets lodging themselves in his body, and ignored that horrible little voice in his head saying "_you'll be too late. you've lost Stiles._"

He ran faster.

* * *

Stiles was breathing heavily, trying not to throw up. His face was too pale, and if any werewolves were around, they would probably be able to hear his heart beating out of his chest. There was so much blood spilling from the gunshot wound on his thigh that he was sure he would pass out at any second.

But he couldn't give these hunters that satisfaction.

Stiles struggled to his knees, feeling proud that he hadn't screamed in agony when the hole in his leg strained more under the pressure.

The hunters had a shocked look on their faces, seemingly stunned that this boy was still trying to stand up to them.

Stiles grimaced, but made sure to smirk as well. "You two are terrible werewolf hunters. You barely managed to catch a _human_, and it looks like you didn't even do that right, doesn't it?"

The look on the faces of the two men in front of Stiles were priceless.

The shotgun toting hunter had a look that was a mixture between fury and indignation, but in the end, it just turned into a snarl.

Stiles should have kept his mouth shut. It had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.

On more than a hundred occasions.

And this was one of those occasions.

Both of the hunters stepped menacingly closer to the teen.

Stiles managed to lean all of his weight on his good leg, and he stood up a little bit, holding his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. He looked backward, as he was almost at the edge of the cliff, and running out of space to get away from these guys.

"Woah, woah, okay, you guys are great hunters. The best I've ever seen. If you guys were in a werewolf hunting competition, you'd come in second. Third, at worst!"

They looked angrier, if possible. And that gun was aimed a little bit too close to his heart for him to feel comfortable.

Stiles gulped. "Shit."

He thought of all the options he had to get out of the situation he was in.

Maybe it was the pain clouding his mind, or maybe it was fear, but he could only think of two ways this could go. Stiles could:

1) Get shot by the hunters and _definitely_ die.

2) Jump into the river and _probably_ die.

If he went with option 1, he would be gone. He wouldn't have to worry about how people would react to his choice, since he wouldn't be around to deal with the aftermath.

If he took the second route and jumped off the cliff into a freezing river with a bleeding leg and _survived_, Derek would kill him.

Not literally, but you get the point.

Either way, Stiles was trapped.

Figuratively _and_ literally.

In the end, it came down to who he was more scared of...the hunters in front of him with the loaded gun, or the sourwolf who threatened him at every turn, but saved his life just as many times.

Yeah, right.

As if there was actually any debate.

Stiles jumped.


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh my god, you guys are the BEST! Thank you so much for all your favorites, follows, and reviews! It really means a lot to me! :D I always get nervous posting things, because I don't know how everyone will react to it. But this went wonderfully! Thank you guys again, and enjoy! P.S. - This isn't the last chapter! :)_**  
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**CHAPTER 2**

Derek was now within hearing and smelling distance of Stiles, and he could hear the boy trying to bargain for his life.

He could also smell the blood.

His eyes burned red and his fangs elongated.

Stiles had gotten minor cuts and scratches plenty of times; Derek knew the scent of the human's blood.

But the amount of blood he was smelling at the moment was sincerely disconcerting. He was almost to the boy, though, and that made him push himself even harder.

His legs were pumping furiously, and by now he could see the teen in the distance.

Stiles' arms were stretched out in front of him, he was trying to remain upright, and he had a bullet hole in his left leg.

And of course, he was at the edge of a cliff.

Derek's eyes burned deeper red when he saw a gun pointed at Stiles' chest. He almost faltered out of pure fear for the human's life, but he was almost there. He was going to make it in time. He would save Stiles, and everything would be fine.

Of course, this would be the moment Stiles would choose to leap right off the side of the ravine.

* * *

When he felt himself plummeting toward the river, he'd tried his best to prepare for impact. But nothing could have prepared him for what he encountered when he actually hit the surface.

It was as if all of the air was knocked out of him. He'd tried to take a breath before landing in the water, but his timing was off, and he ended up taking a pathetic half-breath.

Now that he was fully submerged and didn't know which way was up or down, he was in full panic mode.

He wanted desperately to take in some oxygen, but seeing as his head was currently under the surface of a cold as hell _body of water,_ he didn't have that luxury.

He flailed around, just like he normally would, blinking and trying to get some sort of idea as to where he needed to swim.

The current was far too strong for his liking. It was pushing him downstream at an alarming pace, making him even more disoriented with each passing second.

He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer. The blood loss and lack of oxygen were a terrible mix, and he could slowly feel his consciousness slipping away.

His vision was getting darker when his last thought was "_Derek is definitely going to kill me._"

* * *

When Derek saw Stiles jump, he could have sworn his heart stopped.

Why did this boy keep allowing himself to get caught up in such deadly situations?

And why did he keep making them worse for himself?

He had to have known Derek was on the way. Derek always made it just in time.

But this time, it seemed, luck was not on his side.

He watched in horror as the teen disappeared from the edge, and Derek successfully gained the attention of the two hunters when he screamed "NO!"

Both of the men turned in a vain attempt to kill the werewolf, but Derek paid them no mind. He flew right past them, and launched himself over the same cliff edge Stiles had leaped off no more than a minute before.

Unlike Stiles, Derek couldn't hit the water fast enough.

The only thing on his mind was getting his pack member to safety, and fast.

As soon as he felt himself being pulled down and away by the current, he pushed himself back up, but went with it. He figured if the current was this strong, it definitely took Stiles the same way he was heading.

He reached the surface in no time, and frantically looked around for the missing teen. "Stiles!" he tried, eyes roaming the river. "STILES!" he yelled again, significantly louder this time.

When he got no response, he began to panic. Though he would never admit it.

Ever.

He would never tell anyone that he was actually and severely concerned about Stiles, and he wanted nothing more than to hear that annoying voice chattering in his ear about nothing and everything all at once. Nope.

But Derek knew he had to focus, because he was legitimately the only hope Stiles had of surviving this catastrophe.

The werewolf took a deep breath, then submerged himself fully in the water, blinking and trying to use his supernatural abilities to help him find the missing teen.

The water was murky, but he could see broken branches, rocks, even some fish in the river.

But no Stiles.

Derek propelled himself forward, looking in all directions, when a miracle occurred.

He spotted a little patch of red in the distance, under the water, and moving away from him.

The same little patch of red that belonged to the hoodie he'd grabbed earlier; the same little patch of red that should currently be covering his human pack member's torso.

Derek thanked his lucky stars that Stiles' fashion choices were so bright, and he paddled underwater as quickly as he possibly could toward the teen.

Stiles was so still; so pale. Derek was growing increasingly worried with each passing moment.

When he got within reach, he snatched the hood of Stiles' jacket, intending to pull them both up to the surface.

Unfortunately, the werewolf couldn't get a firm purchase on the fabric, but Derek's desperation and frustration wouldn't allow him to let the boy slip out of his grasp completely.

Derek forced himself to slightly shift into his wolf form, and used his claws to tangle his hand into the hood of the red jacket, pulling Stiles close to his body.

He wrapped his left arm around Stiles' chest, and used his right arm to frantically swim his way out of the water.

As soon as he breached the surface, he ensured Stiles' face was also completely out of the water, so the boy was able to breathe.

Derek knew he wouldn't be of any help to the teen if he didn't get them both out of the practically frozen river, so he struggled against the current with all of his might to get them to the safety of the bank.

It wouldn't prove to be an easy task, especially with Stiles in tow. The boy wasn't heavy by any stretch of the imagination, but with Derek half-shifted, he had to be careful his claws didn't pierce Stiles' skin and cause him any more harm.

The only reason Derek chose to remain in his half-shifted state was because of that extra surge of strength that came along with it. It was the push he needed to break free of the current, swim a few feet, and stagger onto solid ground, picking Stiles up and laying him on the grass.

Derek was out of breath, but he didn't falter when he reigned in his wolf side, ensuring his claws were nowhere in sight. "Stiles?" he asked quickly, holding the boy's face between his hands.

He didn't expect the teen to actually answer him; Stiles' lips were a light shade of blue. But he figured he'd give it a try before he started performing CPR.

Derek's growl was laced with worry when he addressed Stiles next. "There is no way I'm kissing you, so you'd better wake up." He hastily proceeded to rip off his own leather jacket and place his hands on the boy's chest, preparing to push on the teen's sternum.

But he knew he had to be careful. Stiles was fragile, and with a little too much strength, Derek could accidentally break a few of the human's bones. He definitely did not want to cause the kid any more pain than he'd already been subjected to.

Derek forced himself to focus and started on the chest compressions. He'd initially learned how to perform CPR when he'd been on the Beacon Hills High School Swim Team. They'd learned to perform chest compressions to the beat of Stayin' Alive, by the Bee Gees.

The irony did not escape him.

He pushed firmly on Stiles' chest, chanting "_ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive, ah, ah, ah, ah—_"

It was moments later when Stiles jolted upward, spitting out water, coughing, and gasping for breath.

Derek fell backward onto the ground, body sagging in relief. "Oh thank god," he muttered, raking a hand down his face.

Stiles was still attempting to catch his breath, but he was looking at Derek incredulously. "Did I hear you…singing?" He asked, eyes wide.

If looks could kill, Stiles would be _so_ dead. "Don't even." Derek growled, but there was no venom in it. "You look like shit. I thought you were dead."

Stiles chucked darkly. "I _feel_ like shit." He looked down at his injured leg. "And I'm not exactly out of the woods yet. Pun intended." He grinned, through the pain.

Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but conceded. "I know. We have to get you out of here. To a hospital." He moved so he was kneeling in front of Stiles. He looked the teen in the eyes and asked him gently, "Can you stand?"

Stiles' brow creased in concentration as he maneuvered his body into a position that would allow him to push himself up from the ground and onto his good leg only.

Derek stood up and hovered near Stiles just in case the teen needed any assistance.

Derek grabbed Stiles' elbows in an attempt to help the boy get to his feet, but as soon as the werewolf touched the human, Derek could feel the boy's entire body shaking.

"Are you cold?" He asked Stiles, angry with himself for not noticing it before.

"Yeah, a l-little, now that you m-mention it." Stiles confessed, looking slightly embarrassed.

"You need to get out of that jacket. It's soaking wet." Derek said gruffly, gently lowering Stiles back to the ground, so the teen could remove the offensive article of clothing.

Stiles pulled it over his head, and held it in his hands, pausing when he saw claw marks in the fabric of the hood.

"Derek…?" Stiles looked up at the werewolf, confused.

Derek simply shrugged. "Collateral damage." He offered.

Stiles sighed, but tossed the destroyed hoodie to the side, preparing to attempt to stand once again.

Derek was at his side again, slowly pulling the teen to his feet.

They made slow progress, but Stiles was eventually standing on one leg, Derek gripping both of his arms.

"Okay, I'm gonna try walking. Let me go." Stiles said determinedly.

Derek was caught off-guard. "Wh—are you sure?" He asked, hesitating to let go of Stiles.

"Yes. Just because I'm the weakest thing your pack hangs around with doesn't mean I can't fend for myself. I'm not totally useless." The teen grumbled.

"Stiles, no one thinks that." Derek said seriously, trying to understand where the boy's sudden bitterness was coming from.

"It doesn't matter. Let go of me." Stiles grit out, looking fiercely at the werewolf.

Derek obliged, slowly releasing his hold on the teen, but staying close in case he needed to help.

Stiles took a shaky breath, and lowered his foot to the ground. He gingerly put some pressure on it, and when he balanced his weight on both legs, he threw his hands up, and smiled victoriously.

"YEA-" he began, but was cut short when his leg gave out and he felt himself falling.

Derek didn't let him hit the floor. He caught Stiles under the arms, and slowly lowered him to the ground.

Stiles said nothing. Derek could feel the tension, pain, and sadness rolling off of the boy.

"Stiles…" he began, unsure of how to continue.

But he didn't have to. "I'm sorry." Stiles said quietly, staring at the ground.

Derek was taken aback. He had expected anger from the boy, maybe even a slew of curse words aimed at the hunters that put them in this situation. The _last_ thing he expected was an apology from Stiles.

"What are you talking about? None of this is your fault." Derek was quick to assure the teen.

Stiles looked up, eyes flashing. "Maybe I didn't start it, but if it weren't for me being so pathetically human, we wouldn't be in this situation right now. I wouldn't be stuck on the forest floor, freezing my ass off, and you wouldn't be separated from your pack, and speaking of your pack, where are they? Are they okay? You wouldn't know, would you? Because you're stuck with me, and-"

"STILES." Derek cut the teen off, worried, because Stiles' breathing was getting shorter with each passing moment. "I don't know where this is coming from, but you know that isn't what we think of you. You aren't in any way pathetic. Your humanity is what makes you so special to the pack. Speaking of pack, you do realize you ARE PACK, right? Because the way you kept referring to the pack as MY pack makes me think otherwise. Stiles, you are important. We need you just the way you are. And don't worry; our pack mates are safe. I would have been able to feel it if anything were wrong."

Stiles relaxed at this declaration, and he scrubbed a hand over his head. "I'm glad they're okay. And Derek…thanks." He mumbled, cheeks tinged pink.

Derek nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, equally as uncomfortable with this little heart-to-heart. He cleared his throat and announced, "Time to go. How are you feeling? I know you can't walk, but otherwise? Are you dizzy? Nauseous?"

Stiles shook his head. "No, but I'm still cold. Freezing, actually." He wrapped his arms around himself while his teeth chattered.

Derek nodded thoughtfully. "It's probably a mixture of the blood loss you've sustained and your swim in the river." He looked around, then spotted the object in question. "Here, my jacket is leather…it should be fairly dry by now. Put it on."

Derek handed Stiles his jacket, but Stiles hesitated. "Are you sure? I don't want to ruin it."

Derek gaped at the teen. "And I don't want you to freeze to death. You do realize I can get another leather jacket at any time, don't you? You can't exactly get another life."

Stiles chucked and shrugged the coat on. "Ok, so what's the plan…?" he started, pausing when he saw Derek leaning down and approaching him.

"Um, what do you think you're doing?" Stiles asked, completely bewildered.

Derek looked at him as if the answer were quite obvious. "I'm going to carry you to the hospital now."

"WHAT?" Stiles squawked. "Uh, no, no you are not. I will call for a squad car, or an ambulance, or a freaking helicopter before I let you carry me anywhere." Stiles snatched the previously discarded red hoodie from the floor searching the pockets for his dad's old cell phone so he could call for help.

That's when he remembered that Derek had snatched the cell phone from his hands hours earlier, and threw it on the floor. And Stiles hadn't thought to pick it up again.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "And what about your phone?" He asked the werewolf wearily.

Derek reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell, pressing the power button. Due to their trip downstream, his phone was completely waterlogged. It wouldn't even turn on.

Derek scratched his head, looking guiltily at Stiles.

Stiles sighed, resigned. "Fine. I guess we're going to have to make do. But if you tell ANYBODY that you carried me out of this forest…I'll tell them you sang the Bee Gees for me." Stiles smirked.

Derek's eyes widened as he growled. "Deal."

Derek proceeded to scoop the wounded boy up in his arms, carefully avoiding Stiles' injured leg, and making sure not to jostle him too much.

Stiles groaned. "This is so embarrassing." He complained throwing his head back. "But you're really warm." He decided, snuggling into Derek a little bit more.

Derek stifled a laugh, and looked at the teen incredulously. "Let's get you to the hospital. You might be worse off than I originally thought."

Little did they know that in less than five minutes, their trip to the hospital would be the last thing on either of their minds.


	3. Chapter 3

_AHH, thank you guys SO MUCH! I ADORE YOU! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story, I love writing it! Thank you so much for your reviews and favorites and follows...it really means so much. You are the BEST. Here's chapter 3, I hope you like it! :3_

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

Stiles must have fallen asleep at some point, because he was rudely awoken when he found himself tumbling across the forest floor, quite painfully.

He landed on his stomach, cheek pressed into the ground, eyes closed. He was hissing in pain from where his bad leg made contact with the unforgiving dirt and rocks.

He was confused. Hadn't he and Derek been on their way to the hospital? Speaking of which, where _was_ Derek?

Stiles shook his head, trying to clear the sleep, confusion, and pain away, and he propped himself up a few inches to look around.

Derek was no more than six feet away from the teen, but the werewolf was sprawled out on the ground, breathing heavily; eyes squeezed shut as if he were in immense pain.

It only took Stiles a few seconds to determine why this might be.

Derek had a bear trap clamped onto the bottom of his right leg.

Stiles panicked for a moment, but quickly realized that as long as he could get the trap off of Derek, the man would be able to heal, and they could be on their merry way once again.

"Derek," Stiles called out, trying to get the other's attention, "are you okay, man? I'm gonna crawl over there and open the up the trap right now. Don't worry."

Derek didn't even respond to the boy. His posture didn't change. It was as if he couldn't hear Stiles at all.

This unnerved Stiles. Derek heard _everything. _His heightened senses made sure of that.

It was then that Stiles also realized that Derek should have been able to take the trap off of himself, due to his supernatural abilities.

So what was going on?

Stiles didn't have to wait long for an answer.

Just as he opened his mouth to call out to Derek once more, he felt a boot push down on his wounded leg, and he screamed in agony.

"OW, WHAT THE HELL!" Stiles exclaimed, breathing ragged. "GET OFF OF ME, ASSHOLE!" He tried in vain to wiggle away from the attacker, but all that got him was a swift kick to the ribs.

Stiles groaned and curled in on himself. He also took the opportunity to look up.

Of course, it was the hunter who'd shot him earlier.

"You again." Stiles muttered, sincerely pissed at this terrible turn of events. He sat up and squared his shoulders to address the hunter. "What did you do to my friend?" The teen asked bravely, well aware that he'd just referred to Derek as his friend. He couldn't bring himself to take it back, though; anyone who kept saving his life on a routine basis definitely qualified as a friend.

The hunter laughed a full, throaty laugh at the boy's question. "Your **_friend_**? Do you really consider a monster like that a friend? Now I don't feel so bad for what's going to happen to you."

Stiles felt his throat constrict. "W-what do you mean?" he asked nervously.

"Not so brave now, are we?" The hunter chuckled, sneering down at the teen. "Aren't you wondering why the wolf doesn't just break out of those confines? He's got super strength. I'm sure you've seen him do more "_spectacular_" things in the past." The hunter rolled his eyes.

"Well, see, we hunters are what you'd call _innovative_." The man continued, with an evil smirk. "That bear trap isn't just any old bear trap. We've soaked it in a special concoction of chemicals; the most prominent ingredient being wolfsbane."

Stiles groaned internally. Terrific. No wonder Derek wasn't doing anything to help himself; he couldn't. He was probably in a significant amount of pain right now.

"Well, congratulations. You somehow managed to catch a werewolf. I guess maybe you aren't the _worst_ werewolf hunters in the world. So what's your big plan? You gonna club him over the head and drag him back to your cave to celebrate?" Stiles asked cheekily, knowing his mouth would get him in trouble, but unable to resist the temptation.

He was right.

The hunter cursed and struck the teen across the face, splitting his lip. Stiles let out a cry and fell backward.

This got Derek's attention. His hackles were raised, and even though he was still breathing heavily, he looked toward the commotion. Derek's eyes were red now, and his fangs were protruding from his mouth. He was glaring at the hunter.

"Smartass kid. Well, I won't have to worry about you for much longer." The hunter muttered ominously, walking a few feet away to where he'd dropped his rucksack.

Stiles used this moment of distraction to try and crawl his way over to Derek, but the hunter was too quick. Before the teen knew what was happening, he'd been grabbed by the collar of his shirt and thrown back down to the ground, so the breath was knocked out of him.

He felt a boot in the middle of his back, holding him down. "Why do you insist on making this harder on yourself?" The hunter asked in a teasing tone. "Now stay still."

Stiles felt his arms being pulled behind his back and bound with rope. His struggles were futile, but no one could say he didn't try. The teen tried kicking out at the hunter, struggling with all of his might, but all that got him was a stomp to his bad leg.

"STOP IT, KID. If you're lucky, I might kill you quickly." The hunter snapped.

Stiles closed his eyes as he felt his feet being tied together. He tried to breathe evenly, but his choked sobs were bubbling up in his throat, and he could feel the hot sting of tears beneath his eyelids.

He was utterly powerless. He couldn't save himself and he couldn't save Derek

But he had to try. Stiles cleared his throat as the hunter checked to make sure the teen's limbs were tightly bound. "So uh…where are your friends?" He prodded, feeling the hunter tense up behind him.

"…they're busy." The older man growled, yanking a little bit too hard on one of the ropes he'd tied. Stiles winced, but he felt his heart lighten a little bit.

Busy? The hunter sounded angry. Did that mean his pack had dealt with the other hunters somehow? He felt something akin to pride bubbling up in his chest, but it was slowly numbed to fear when he saw the hunter sprinkling dark powder in a straight line in front of Derek.

Stiles knew what the powder was. He'd dealt with it first-hand. "Why are you putting mountain ash in front of him." The teen asked in a deadpanned tone.

The hunter chuckled. "You'll see soon enough."

Stiles swallowed loudly, feeling a lump rise in his throat.

What the hell was this guy's endgame? What was he planning?

Stiles had initially thought the hunter was simply going to shoot the teen and the werewolf and move on.

But now this guy was dragging this out like it was some sort of game.

Stiles was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the hunter was standing over him with a large stake and a hammer in his hand.

"DUDE, DO NOT STAKE ME. I'M NOT A VAMPIRE. IT'LL BE GROSS AND BLOODY AND I'M GONNA SCREAM LIKE A GIRL, JUST DON'T DO IT!" Stiles hollered, shrinking away from the man.

To Stiles pleasure, the hunter looked severely confused. "What the hell are you on about, boy? Vampires aren't real. What kind of fantasy world do you live in?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, but this action was cut short when the older man grabbed Stiles' bicep and began to drag him toward Derek.

The hunter stopped when he placed Stiles directly in front of the line of mountain ash, and right in front of the werewolf.

Stiles finally caught on to the plan.

"No, no, no, you can't let him eat me. That would be cruel and unusual. He wouldn't do it anyway; he likes me too much." Stiles said hopefully, grinning lopsidedly at Derek, hoping for some sort of reaction from the man.

He wasn't getting one. Derek simply stared at the ground, breathing heavily.

The hunter chortled, placing the giant stake between Stiles' bound hands, and started hammering it into the ground. When he was through, he tested it to ensure the teen wouldn't be getting away anytime soon.

Stiles wriggled around, trying to free himself, but he was exhausted in no time. "Why are you doing this?" He asked the hunter wearily, meeting the older man's gaze.

"I heard you two talking back near the river bank." The man confessed with a feral grin. Stiles' jaw dropped. The hunter continued. "I'm not gonna have the big bad wolf eat you as a snack…no, I have something much better planned for you. You're so sick of being a pathetic human? Well, let's see how you do as a werewolf. If you survive the bite from the Alpha, that is."

Stiles was about to hyperventilate. Sure, he'd fantasized about being a werewolf once or twice, especially when Scott first turned, but he didn't _actually _want it to happen! He was more than happy being a human! He liked staying in one form forever, rather than changing on the full moon, or when he got angry, or when he felt threatened. He shivered thinking about how many times he would have accidentally changed into wolf form in the past few months without even realizing it. No, he couldn't risk that! He couldn't kill someone simply because they were pissing him off a little bit!

And what about his dad? He hadn't even told his father about Scott's hairy little issue; Stiles could only imagine what his dad would say if his came home and transformed at the freaking dinner table over some trivial issue, such as burning the chicken he was trying to cook for supper.

No way, he couldn't do that to his dad. He'd put him through enough already. Just thinking about it was making Stiles' throat close up.

But maybe he didn't have to worry. "You do know that you are dealing with a highly trained werewolf here, don't you?" Stiles patronized the hunter, and hoped Derek wouldn't rip his throat out for using the word "trained." Stiles continued. "Derek's a good Alpha. He can control the shift. He'd never bite me. He won't even turn." The teen finished, confidently.

Stiles wasn't prepared for the hunter to smile back at him. The man reached into his back pocket and pulled out a vial. He held it up between two fingers and Stiles did _not_ like the gleam in the older man's eye.

"He won't have a choice." The hunter replied venomously, loading the vial into some sort of bullet.

"What are you talking about? What is that? What are you going to do to him?" Stiles' voice rose in pitch with each question.

The hunter then loaded the bullet into a rifle of some sort. "This vial contains a special liquid that forces werewolves to change into their beastly form. They can't control it and they can't stop it. We've tested it before on a beta, so we know it works." He explained to Stiles, in a carefree manner. "And then we shot the monster between the eyes with a _special _kind of bullet. He didn't last long after that. And neither will you two."

Stiles was stunned into silence. He knew exactly what kind of bullet the hunter was talking about; it was the same kind that Kate Argent had used on Derek, the same kind that would have killed the werewolf if Scott and Stiles hadn't intervened.

Stiles was silent as he tried to think of a way out of the situation. He squirmed around, trying to see if the ropes binding is arms and legs were loose anywhere, so that he could move away from the soon-to-be violent wolf. But to Stiles' chagrin, he found nothing.

He slumped over a little bit, lost in thought. Maybe Derek would turn, but he would remain calm. He'd done it before right? But Stiles looked at Derek once more, saw the pain on his face, and that little bit of hope shriveled up. With the werewolf's leg sliced up and wolfsbane making its way through the his bloodstream, Stiles couldn't count on Derek to even be aware of his actions.

Stiles was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the gun discharge to his left.

Stiles snapped his head up to look at Derek, who now had the liquid-filled dart sticking out of his right shoulder blade. The teen gulped.

It was then that the hunter picked up a long stick, and walked to stand a good distance behind Stiles. The older man used the stick to break the line of mountain ash, then stepped away, whispering, "Sic 'em, boy."

* * *

Derek had been practically unconscious up until he felt something boiling up in his chest. It was a feeling like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

He felt like he was being pulled somewhere, but he knew for a fact that he wasn't actually moving. He was still staring at the ground, trying to breathe through his pain and not give into his urge to change. He knew he'd have a better chance of healing if he just let go and shifted, but he also knew that the injury to his leg was clouding his judgment, and he could accidentally hurt Stiles in his attempt to get to the hunter.

Now, Derek could hear Stiles in front of him. The boy was growing more worried by the second. His heart was beating frantically, but Derek couldn't understand why, since the hunter had left them both and was sitting against a tree about a hundred feet away from them, cleaning his weapons and paying the werewolf and the teenager no mind.

It was then that Stiles spoke. "Derek?" He asked meekly, causing the werewolf to look at the boy worriedly. Stiles was rarely scared, and Derek couldn't remember the last time Stiles had actually been afraid of _him_.

The look on Stiles' face was even more disconcerting. He looked frightened and wary. Derek couldn't understand why. He opened his mouth to ask, when suddenly the tug he felt in his chest became too much to handle, and he clutched his stomach in agony.

"_What the hell is going on?_" Derek thought to himself, trying to control the raging emotions he was suddenly feeling.

"The hunters found a way to force the change in werewolves with some sort of chemical. He shot you with it." Stiles answered bitterly, making Derek realize he'd asked that last question out loud.

Derek was worried now. Very worried. But he had faith in himself. He looked up Stiles, realizing why the boy was so on edge. "I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles. I wouldn't." He said, trying to reassure both himself and the teen in front of him.

Stiles didn't meet his gaze. "You won't be able to stop yourself." He whispered. "The hunter said they've tested this before. It works. He wants you to bite me, and I don't know if you'll be able to stop yourself. Just so you know, Derek, I won't blame you. None of this is your fault." Stiles echoed the words Derek had spoken to the teen earlier.

Derek couldn't stand to see the teenager so broken. He was always the one who was full of hope, even when the rest of the pack wasn't. Derek hated that he was the reason Stiles was feeling that way.

"Stiles, I-" Derek was cut off when a wave of anger swept through him, seemingly out of nowhere. He tried to control himself, but the feeling continued to overtake him, causing him to start to turn. He let out a roar so loud that he could feel the forest shake around him.

Stiles snapped his head up, eyes wide. "Here we go." He whispered to himself.

* * *

Erica and Boyd were hiding in a patch of undergrowth when they heard their Alpha's sound of agony. They looked at each other in concern.

"What the hell is going on?" Erica whispered, so low that no one other than Boyd would have been able to hear her.

Boyd looked equally as worried. He answered her in a hushed tone. "I don't know, but we need to end this game now and get over there. That came from clear across the forest."

Erica nodded.

The two had been driving the hunters crazy for hours, leading the men on a wild goose chase. They'd snap a twig in one area, then race up a tree and silently giggle while the hunters chased their tails. Boyd grinned when Erica used that analogy.

They planned on keeping this up until Derek called them off, or until the hunters grew weary and left on their own.

But something had changed. Both betas could feel it. They had to get to their Alpha immediately.

Boyd came up with the quickest solution. "Let's just knock them all out."

Erica grinned. Anything that involved the pain of others made her happy.

"You've got it. I'll take those four, you take that one. Sound about fair?" she asked coyly.

Boyd almost let out a laugh, but stopped himself just in time. "Let's go." He replied, lightly squeezing her shoulder in encouragement.

* * *

Isaac and Scott were having a similar debate in a different part of the woods.

Unlike Erica, Scott was not one to resort to violence. But when he'd heard Derek's roar, he knew something was terribly wrong. The look on Isaac's face confirmed Scott's thoughts.

"We need to get to Derek." Scott stated, unnecessarily, since Isaac was already planning out in his mind the best way to drop the remaining hunters as quickly as possible without causing them too much damage.

Scott and Isaac had been taking down hunters slowly but surely for the past couple of hours. They'd let the men think they were on the trail of the wolves, while the wolves were actually following them. Then out of nowhere, Isaac or Scott would snatch one of the hunters, knock them out, and leave them under some foliage to wake up confused quite some time later. Their fellow hunters were growing increasingly worried, calling out their missing members' names every so often.

The teen werewolves had originally been following nine hunters, but had incapacitated five of them. The remaining four were huddled together, scared out of their minds. Isaac had an idea.

"Remember that hole we saw earlier that the hunters ran right past?" He asked Scott, smirking.

Scott nodded, and a slow grin formed on his face. "Let's do it. I'll lead them toward it; you make sure they all fall in."

Isaac nodded, gave Scott a friendly punch to the shoulder, and ran off to perform his part of the plan.

* * *

Meanwhile, Derek hadn't moved. Stiles hadn't moved. It was as if they were both frozen on the spot.

Even though Derek had shifted, he hadn't made any attempt to harm Stiles. He had his claws in the ground, as if that would keep him from doing anything he might regret. He stared at the dirt and tried to control his breathing.

Stiles breathed as softly as he could, hoping that by some miracle, the wolf wouldn't notice him.

But it wasn't long before Stiles had to shift a little bit. He was in an extremely uncomfortable position and his injured leg was falling asleep. He scooted a little bit to his right, relieving the pressure from his bad leg. Unfortunately, this movement didn't go unnoticed by Derek.

As soon as Stiles moved, Derek's head snapped up, red eyes meeting Stiles' brown ones.

Stiles wasn't sure what to do. He resorted to clamping his mouth shut and not doing anything at all.

It didn't matter though. In a span of seconds, Derek was upon Stiles, standing over the boy and sniffing his neck, growling menacingly.

Stiles let out a startled yelp and twisted, trying to get away from the wolf.

He figured now was as good a time as any to try and reason with him.

"Derek?" he started quietly. "Buddy, I know you're in there. I know you're in a lot of pain, too. But we're gonna get out of here." Stiles looked at the wolf, trying to see if Derek was understanding anything the teen was saying.

Derek was panting heavily, and backing away from Stiles now. His rational and human side wanted to stay as far from the boy as possible, but his wolf side wouldn't allow it.

The internal struggle was tearing him apart.

His instincts were telling him to "_turn the boy now; he's a fragile human, and with all of the dangerous situations you put him, he'd be well-equipped to deal with them if he could heal quickly, and hear and smell danger before he was right in the middle of it._"

He took a step toward Stiles, baring his teeth.

Stiles shrank back, eyes wide.

Derek's human side was rearing its head now, telling him "_NO! This boy is the reason my pack is so strong. It's his humanity that keeps us together. He brings us back when we get out of hand. He does things only humans can. He's got a family and friends who love him for exactly who he is. Why would you take that from him?_"

Derek whimpered and turned his head away from the teen.

Stiles was so confused. He couldn't tell what was going on exactly, but he knew it couldn't be good. Derek seemed conflicted, like he was trying his hardest to hold himself back.

Stiles knew the werewolf couldn't last much longer.

And he was right.

Derek crossed the space between himself and Stiles in an instant, teeth bared, and eyes burning bright. A low growl was resonating inside his chest. The wolf side had won the argument, and now there was no going back. "_You almost didn't get to him in time to save him a few hours ago…what happens when you don't get to him at all next time?_" his inner wolf snapped, making the decision that much easier.

Derek was hovering over the petrified teen now. Stiles was squirming with all of his might, trying to undo the ropes that were holding him in place. "Please, Derek! Don't do this!" He tried to reason, breathing getting faster. "I know I complained about being weak and pathetic before, but I was just angry! I don't want to be a werewolf! I really, _really_ don't!" He cried, breath catching, tears forming in his eyes.

Derek didn't seem to notice, as his growling got louder and his tail started to swish back and forth. He got lower to the ground, eyes narrowing.

Stiles was practically choking on air now, trying to control his sobs. Derek didn't seem to care. He advanced on the teen knocking him over and snarling.

He opened his mouth to bite Stiles on the hip, and Stiles knew he was done for. Either he was going to turn, or he would die. He closed his eyes, tears slipping down his face.

Derek lowered his head to Stiles' side, and Stiles heard the Alpha snarl. He knew this was it.

But suddenly, the pressure on his side was gone, and he heard commotion from all around him. He snapped his eyes open, looking around frantically, and checking his side to make sure he hadn't been bit.

He hadn't.

He wanted to rejoice, but his heartbeat just wouldn't slow down. He looked around, trying to control his breathing. He saw Scott and Erica wrestling with Derek, and Isaac and Boyd standing over the hunter who'd tied Stiles up. He should have felt better knowing everything was being taken care of, but he couldn't stop the panic attack from coming on. The past few minutes were replaying in his head, and he was powerless to stop it. He'd been so scared.

That feeling made Stiles' throat close up. His heart was racing in his chest. He wanted to clutch at his shirt, it felt too tight. But the ropes around his wrists were preventing that. This made him panic even more. He couldn't breathe.

Isaac looked over to where Stiles was laying on the ground and his eyes grew wide. "Uh, Erica?" He got the girl's attention.

Scott was now dealing with Derek, leaving Erica free. "What is it?" she responded to her pack mate.

Isaac nodded toward Stiles meaningfully, and when Erica turned around her jaw dropped. She was racing toward Stiles in an instant.

"Stiles, you need to calm down! It's okay, you'll be okay." She soothed the boy, holding his face in her hands.

It didn't seem to be helping; tears were still streaming down Stiles' cheeks and his face was bright red. Erica was becoming desperate.

She maneuvered around him and cut the ropes binding his hands and feet, then pulled the boy into a hug, stroking his short hair.

"Stiles, we're here now. The whole pack is here. We won't let anything happen to you. You're safe." She kept repeating, trying to calm him down.

It felt like forever, but Erica slowly heard Stiles' heartbeat slow back to normal. She let out a sigh of relief, and laid him down.

She stroked his cheek, and he relaxed into her touch. "Thank you." He croaked, trying to smile. It came out as a miserable grimace.

Stiles either fell asleep or promptly passed out. Either way, Erica could hear his even breathing and regular heartbeat, so she smiled sadly and turned from the boy to assess the rest of her pack.

Isaac and Boyd were watching Erica and Stiles with worried eyes, and Scott was sitting next to Derek. Derek had reverted back to his human form, and was unconscious. Scott was breathing heavily and watching his pack mates with half-lidded eyes. "We need to get Stiles out of here. He's got a bullet in his leg and I don't even know what else he's gone through." Scott announced heavily.

Erica nodded, but spoke up. "I can carry Stiles. Scott, you don't look like you're in any shape to lift Derek. And we definitely can't leave him here." She looked over at the other two boys. "Can you two carry Derek?"

Boyd and Isaac nodded and started to approach their Alpha, but as if on cue, Derek startled awake, growling and snapping. He remained in his human form, but his teeth grew longer, and his nails came out. He looked around wildly, but saw there was no immediate danger. He relaxed slightly. "What the hell is going on?" he asked tiredly.

No one spoke. Derek looked around confused, but when he saw Stiles lying on the ground a ways in front of him, the memories came flooding back. A look of absolute horror crossed his face. "Stiles?" the alpha all but yelled, remembering standing over the boy, his inner wolf trying to get him to bite the human.

"He's okay, you didn't bite him. But he did have a panic attack." Erica hastily assured Derek.

Derek's face relaxed a little bit and he struggled to stand, but fell back down, hissing in pain. He looked down at his right leg. Oh, yeah. "Scott. This contraption is laced with wolfsbane. Can you use your jacket to cover your skin and pry it open?" He asked his beta tiredly.

Scott nodded and got to it. In no time, Derek was making his way over to Stiles, dragging his healing leg behind him.

He dropped to the boy's side, hand hovering over Stiles' shoulder. Derek closed his eyes in shame. He had been so close to biting the teen. He shivered just thinking about it. He would never have been able to forgive himself if he'd followed through with it. _If your pack hadn't shown up…_ that little voice in the back of his head was taunting him. He closed his eyes, as they turned red in anger at himself. He clenched his fists and breathed through his nose.

He snapped back to normal when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Erica was looking at him with more understanding in her eyes than Derek had ever seen from her.

"He'll be okay." She whispered, offering Derek a soft smile. "I'll take him to the hospital and think of a great story to tell the doctors on my way."

Derek looked at his only female beta gratefully. If he'd had any doubts about turning her before, she'd more than made up for it with her actions now. He placed a hand over hers. "Thank you." He responded, giving her hand a squeeze.

Derek watched as Erica gingerly lifted Stiles as if he weighed nothing. She brushed a hand down Stiles' face, and made sure the jacket he was wearing was tucked around him to keep him warm.

Stiles was so pale and he looked so worn. Derek felt guilt bubble up inside of him. He looked away.

When he looked back, Erica and Stiles were already gone.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi guys, oh man, I am **SO** SORRY it took me so long to post this chapter. But I'm back on track, so chapter 5 should not take nearly as long! THANK YOU SO MUCH, once again, for giving me feedback on this story! I hope you like this chapter! :3_

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**CHAPTER 4**

Derek wanted to rip the hunter's throat out.

The Alpha had threatened Stiles with that in the past, but he'd never actually meant it. The most harm he'd done the kid was push him softly into walls once in a while.

And trust him, if he _really_ pushed someone into a wall, they'd have a broken back. At best.

But today, right now, he most definitely wanted to cause that hunter as much pain as possible.

Derek stood up and loomed his way over to the unconscious man who was still out like a light, thanks to his Betas, and his grimace turned into more of a deadly snarl.

How could someone shoot Stiles? How could anyone hurt the teenager? He's just about as defenseless as a human can be. Derek didn't think that Stiles had ever gotten into a physical dispute in his life.

And if Stiles had, Derek didn't think that he'd won.

Yet, this hunter, this _trash_, shot Derek's packmate, and then proceeded to tie him up to be bitten by a werewolf.

Derek cringed. He couldn't stand to think about how close he'd come to actually biting the teen. And he had no idea if the bite would even take. He could have _killed_ Stiles.

Derek's snarl became more defined, and his eyes began to glow red.

Immediately, Scott was between the hunter and Derek.

"Derek, man, I know what you're feeling-" Scott began, but was cut off abruptly when Derek spat, "then **_move_**."

Scott merely braced himself. "No. Because I know Stiles wouldn't want you to kill this guy because of him. Yeah, he hurt Stiles. And I totally want revenge, too. But when Stiles finds out that you killed someone on his behalf, his guilt will overwhelm him. You know it's true." The teen stared at his Alpha, understanding written all over Scott's face.

It took a few moments, but Derek backed down. He knew Scott was right. Stiles was always the one jumping into the fray to save everyone else; if and when he heard that Derek murdered someone, because of him, he'd be devastated. Derek didn't-couldn't-put Stiles through more than he was already forced to endure.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Scott's phone rang. Scott scrambled to answer it, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it was Erica.

Derek honed his hearing in on the phone in Scott's hand, so he could focus on the words his female Beta was speaking through the cell. Erica sounded breathless. "_I got him here faster than I thought possible_," she huffed out, "_and I told the hospital staff that some random dude kidnapped and attacked Stiles, and that I stumbled across him while I was walking through the woods. They totally took my word for it immediately, and rushed him into surgery. They said they can't tell me anything since I'm not family. So get your asses over here and sit with me in the waiting room. The Sheriff is on the phone with Scott's mom; she's in one of the empty hospital rooms. She's telling him the same story I told her. I've been eavesdropping, but Ms. McCall just told Mr. Stilinski that since she's not in the room with Stiles, she can't tell how everything is going._"

Scott thanked Erica, and promised that they'd be there in a few minutes. After hanging up, the teen looked over at his fellow Betas who were still standing guard over the passed out hunter, awaiting further instructions.

Derek followed Scott's gaze, and thought about a way they could get everything done at once. He quickly came up with a solution. "Alright. Boyd, Isaac, tie up that hunter. You two are going to deliver him to the sheriff's station. Let them know that he kidnapped and tortured Stiles. I can guarantee you they'll find a suitable punishment." Derek was sure of it. Those deputies knew Stiles since he was a kid. Stiles told the pack about how his father brought him to the station all the time when he was younger, and how on his first visit, his dad showed him everything and introduced him to everyone, and they all forced Sheriff Stilinski to bring little Stiles back at least once a week. The deputies that worked at the station would not take well to someone hurting Stiles.

Derek watched Isaac and Boyd make short work of confining the hunter, and nodded at them as they ran off with the still-unconscious man in tow.

Derek felt much calmer than he had five minutes ago. He once again noticed just how helpful his group of teenage Betas was being.

The little voice in his head reminded him that if it weren't for his group of teenage Betas, Stiles would be turned or dead right now. He clenched his fists, still severely angry with himself. He was almost lost in thought when Scott brought him out of his reverie with a, "C'mon Derek, let's move."

* * *

At the hospital, Erica pretended to study her nails, while Isaac read a magazine and Boyd sat up straight in his chair, staring at nothing in particular. The boys had met up with Erica as soon as they'd left the hunter in the very capable hands of the Beacon Hills deputies.

They'd only been sitting for around fifteen minutes when Scott and Derek came walking through the door, Derek trying to look inconspicuous and Scott trying to spot his mother, who he knew would be waiting for him.

So it wasn't surprising when Scott's mother came rushing into the hospital waiting room, beckoning Scott and the pack into a hallway further into the hospital.

"I called Stiles' father and told him what happened." She looked at the teens and Derek, face hard. "Even though I don't know exactly what happened. Erica's story sounded a little…odd. Why in the world would someone kidnap and harm Stiles? And why were you just taking a stroll through the forest, Erica?"

Erica pinned Ms. McCall with a hard stare, but Scott cut in before she could say anything. "Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were camping." He blurted out.

Everyone turned to stare at the boy. Erica looked at him incredulously, but was forced to play along now that Scott had come up with such a random story. "Yep. We go camping every Sunday. Just because we love nature. So. Much." Erica deadpanned, eyes never leaving Scott.

Ms. McCall, though confused by the exchange, had no choice but to believe the teens. "But you found the man who hurt Stiles?" she pressed.

Erica nodded. "He was standing over Stilinski when we saw them. Isaac and Boyd took the dude down and I got Stiles out of there."

Ms. McCall nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm glad you guys found Stiles when you did. He was in pretty bad shape. I'm going to go see if I can find out his status right now. You all go back to the waiting room; Mr. Stilinski should be here any minute. Let him know I'll be right down to talk with him."

The werewolves nodded, and they parted ways with the nurse. As soon as they were out of earshot, Erica smacked Scott on the back of the head, muttering, "Camping. Are you serious? Do I _look_ like I go camping?"

* * *

It wasn't long before Stiles' father walked into the hospital, looking frantically around for Ms. McCall. When he spotted Scott, he rushed over to his son's best friend.

"How is he? How's Stiles?" The Sheriff asked, looking more worn than Scott had ever seen him.

"My mom's checking on him right now. She said to tell you she'd be back in a second." Scott supplied, trying to be helpful.

Mr. Stilinski closed his eyes and sighed deeply, both hands on his hips, looking like a dad and a Sheriff at the same time.

Thankfully, Ms. McCall chose that moment to come rushing back into the waiting room, beaming, and motioning for Mr. Stilinski to follow her.

As she led him to Stiles' room, the wolves listened in on the conversation between the nurse and the Sheriff. "Stiles is going to be fine. They patched up his leg and stabilized him. He lost a lot of blood, but he's going to be okay. He should be waking up pretty soon." They heard Ms. McCall say, while Mr. Stilinski breathed a sigh of relief, whispering, "Thank you, Melissa."

* * *

The first thing Stiles felt was…nothing, actually. This worried him more than it should have. Because at least he wasn't feeling pain, right? He remembered the pain that had been radiating from his leg. But he couldn't remember why. And what happened between then and now that made the pain stop? He kept his eyes closed as he tried to recall the events leading up to him just waking up, and when his brain helpfully supplied the memory of Derek in his wolf form standing over him and baring his teeth, Stiles' eyes flew open and he threw the blanket covering his torso off of him, frantically assessing his sides for any teeth marks.

"Nononono-" he whispered, fearing his lack of pain was due to the fact that he'd been turned into a werewolf. He calmed down when he found his skin unmarred, and took the time to look around. He quickly realized that the reason he was feeling nothing was because of the IV hooked up to his hand, pumping him with morphine. That's when all of his memories came rushing back, and he relaxed, remembering how his friends took care of his attacker and kept Stiles separated from Derek.

Derek. Stiles shivered thinking about their last encounter. He'd never been so scared of Derek in his life. He felt guilty; for he remembered all the times the older man had saved him. But when Derek's red eyes looked so feral and he was pinning the teen to the ground, Stiles knew the wolf couldn't control his actions. He would never deliberately harm the teen; Stiles knew that, without a doubt. But he also knew that the hunters had some sort of chemical that forced Derek to do things he would normally not.

Stiles looked around the room through half-lidded eyes and saw his dad sleeping in a chair at the foot of his hospital bed. "Dad?" Stiles croaked, effectively awakening the dozing man. His father jumped up and was at Stiles' side in an instant. He looked worried, but relieved at the same time, judging by the small smile playing on his lips. "How are you feeling, son?"

Stiles shrugged. "Pretty good. Not like I was shot in the leg. So I guess that's a win."

His dad shook his head, exasperated. "Stiles, how do you manage to get caught up in these sorts of situations? Why in the world did someone kidnap you?"

Stiles looked down, eyebrows drawing together. He fiddled with his hospital blanket while he tried to come up with an explanation. "I dunno, dad. He was just crazy. He didn't say much. Just grabbed me and shot me. But then my friends came along, so he didn't do anything else."

Mr. Stilinski looked like he wanted to continue questioning his son, but thought better of it when he saw just how tired the boy looked. "Stiles, I'm going to tell your friends you're awake. They've been waiting to see you for hours."

Stiles nodded and relaxed into the pillows. His dad lingered a bit, watching his son carefully, but eventually left to allow Stiles some time with his friends.

It was a few minutes later, but Scott was the first to rush into the room, looking entirely like an excited puppy. "How are you, man?! Do you need anything? What can I get you?" He asked a multitude of questions, and Stiles could hardly keep up, with all of the pain-killers flowing through his system.

He opted for smiling sleepily at his best friend and saying, "It's all good."

Scott looked confused, while Isaac and Boyd laughed behind him, looking over Stiles to make sure he was really okay.

Erica entered the room next, trying to appear indifferent and looking anywhere but at Stiles. She spoke to him though, simply saying, "I'm glad you're alright."

Stiles grinned, sitting up a little further. "Thank you, Erica. I know you brought me here. I woke up just long enough to see that."

The she-wolf rolled her eyes, but then gazed at Stiles, with a little smile. "No problem, Stilinski."

"We took the hunter to your dad's old station. He won't be bothering you again." Boyd assured Stiles. Isaac nodded his agreement.

"Thanks, guys. Really." Stiles smiled, blushing a little bit. All of the people in this room cared enough about him to make sure he was safe. It was a lot to take in. He knew his dad was always there for him, and always cared about his well-being, but until this moment he didn't realize exactly what he meant to the pack. They were a family.

Speaking of family, where was their Alpha? Derek was the only one missing from the little reunion taking place in Stiles' hospital room. He asked Scott about Derek's whereabouts.

Scott looked guilty, fidgeting, and not meeting Stiles' questioning gaze. "He's out in the waiting room. He said he said he didn't think he should see you. He said he didn't…want to."

Stiles gulped past the lump in his throat. He could feel himself getting emotional, but there was no way he was going to show it. "That's alright. I'm actually feeling kinda tired. Would you guys mind if I took a nap?"

The werewolves looked sympathetic, but nodded, saying their goodbyes, and filing out of Stiles' room. When he heard their footsteps retreating down the hallway, he closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. He was obviously wrong about the pack being his family, when their leader couldn't even be bothered to check on him. He "didn't want to?" Well, why not? Stiles had done nothing wrong. Had he?

He heard someone approaching his room, but pretended to be asleep. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right then. Luckily, it was only Ms. McCall and a fellow nurse, checking up on the teen.

"Oh, good, he's out like a light." Stiles heard Scott's mother whisper to her co-worker. "His father was called into work just now, but I promised him I'd let Stiles know and that I'd tell the Sheriff if there was any change in his son's condition. Looks like he's alright for now."

Stiles heard the door close and the women walk away, and at some point between pretending to be asleep and thinking about asshole Alphas, Stiles actually did fall asleep.

* * *

Derek's pack plopped down next to him in the waiting room, looking like they hadn't slept in days. When Scott yawned, Derek took that as his cue. "You all need to go home and rest." He stated, looking at each of his Betas.

They started to protest, saying that they had to be there for Stiles, but Derek cut them off. "I'm here. He'll be fine. There's nothing to worry about. Go; get some sleep. You can come back tomorrow morning and check up on him."

The teens grumbled, but got up all the same, saying goodnight to their Alpha, and making him promise to call them if they needed him. He smiled at their concern, and assured them that he would.

When they'd gone, Derek allowed himself to lie back in his seat. He felt severely guilty, for two reasons now. The first was almost biting Stiles. Sure, those hunters pretty much forced him to do it, but the fact that he had no control over the situation was eating away at him. The second reason he was stewing in self-hate was directly related to the first reason. He hadn't yet gone to see Stiles in his hospital room, because of how guilty he felt about scaring the boy so badly.

He just couldn't bring himself to face Stiles. Not yet. So Derek simply closed his eyes, and tried to relax for a few hours at least.

* * *

Stiles didn't know how long he'd been napping for, but he awoke with a start when he heard someone twisting the handle on the door of his hospital room. "Hello?" he rasped out, realizing just how thirsty he was. He licked his lips, frowning. Why didn't the person just come inside? Maybe it was Derek, finally coming to see him? "Derek?" he practically whispered, his throat still unbearably dry.

The door opened fully now, and a man in a long white coat strolled in, green sterile mask on his face. Stiles deflated a little bit. Not Derek, just a doctor.

"Sup, doc?" Stiles chucked a little bit at his own humor.

The doctor looked up at Stiles but said nothing. Stiles squirmed a little bit under the gaze. The look in the doctor's eyes was…wait. The doctor's eyes. They were so…familiar.

"Have we met?" Stiles asked warily, coughing. "And would you mind getting me a glass of water or something?"

The doctor pulled the mask off his face, revealing a vicious smile. "Hey, kid."

Stiles gasped, struggling to sit up. He knew he'd seen those eyes before. This was the other hunter, the one who hadn't shot him, but had been there when Stiles was trapped on the cliff. "Crap. Look, man, I-"

"Shut up." The older man snapped, moving toward the teen. "You got my partner arrested. I'm just here to finish what he started."

Stiles was panicking. He kicked at his sheets, trying to untangle himself and get out of the bed, but the hunter was already upon him. He grabbed Stiles by the throat, cutting off his air supply.

Stiles struggled, scratching at the man's hands, managing to draw some blood. The hunter hissed in pain, and as soon as his grip lightened a little bit, Stiles took a deep breath and yelled, hoarsely, "DEREK!"

Stiles' scream was breathy and scratchy, but he didn't have another try, for as soon as the pressure on his windpipe was gone, it was back, and Stiles could only pray that the Alpha hadn't left the building. He also prayed that the werewolf's hearing was up-to-par, because Stiles was certain that no one else in the hospital had heard him, therefore, no one had any idea about what was going on.

Stiles continued his futile struggle with the stronger man, but felt himself weakening, and his vision was dimming. He knew he was going to pass out soon; that much was inevitable. He used the last of his strength to choke out a "help" and hope that someone was listening.


	5. Chapter 5

_Here it is! The last chapter! Thank you all for sticking with me, I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH :) I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 5**

After Derek sent his pack home, it was only a matter of time before he fell into a light slumber. He wasn't the only person in the waiting room, but the others had their own problems to deal with and they weren't paying him any attention. He was glad for this, because he seriously needed some rest.

He'd only been sleeping for what seemed like a few minutes when he awoke with a start. He looked around, confused, for no one else in the waiting room seemed to be...panicking? Yes, that's what he was feeling. Panic. That's what woke him up. But why in the world was he feeling that way?

It was mere seconds before he realized what was going on. His sensitive hearing picked up Stiles' voice, full of fear, screaming his name. Derek must have been sensing what the boy was feeling. He had to get to him. What in the world was going on? Why was Stiles in danger in a _hospital_?

Derek practically flew from his seat, and went to where Ms. McCall was sitting at the front desk. "Can I go in and check on Stiles? His dad texted me, he wants to know how he's doing." Derek lied easily, offering the nurse a smile.

Ms. McCall looked suspicious, but she knew Derek only meant well. She'd seen how worried he was when he'd arrived. "Alright, go on in. Even though visiting hours are over, I'll make sure you aren't bothered." Derek thanked her, and rushed down the hallway, as quickly as he could without drawing too much attention to himself.

When he arrived at the correct hospital room, he heard a strangled "_help_" escape from Stiles' lips. And that's when all hell broke loose.

Derek slammed the door open, and zeroed in on the attacker. He recognized him from earlier in the day. The wolf used his advanced speed and strength to rip the hunter away from the prone teen and throw the man to the floor with ease. Derek heard Stiles coughing and gasping for air, which meant that the boy was okay and Derek could focus on ripping the hunter limb from limb. This wouldn't be difficult, considering the man was unconscious.

Derek's claws grew from his fingertips, and his fangs protruded from his mouth. He snarled, preparing to deliver the killing blow. But as he raised his hand to slash the man's throat, he heard Stiles' scratchy voice whispering from behind him. Just one, broken word: "_No_."

Derek faltered. He turned slowly to the teen, his red eyes glowing bright. "What do you mean, _no_?" The werewolf growled. "Stiles, this asshole tried to KILL YOU! TWICE!"

Stiles nodded, but closed his eyes and licked his lips. He didn't really know how to put his thought process into words. How could he explain what he felt without sounding like he was defending the hunters?

"Derek—" he began, but paused to cough. "Jesus. Sorry. _Anyway_. Look…I don't want more death hanging over our heads. I don't want you to kill someone because of me. What would that accomplish? Sure, maybe it'd make you feel good for a few minutes, but that isn't something you can just push to the back of your mind. You'll eventually regret it. You'll feel guilty. And I think you have enough on your mind right now. You don't need to add this to it." Stiles finished, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck too far.

Derek's face tightened, but he turned away from the teen, studying the hunter once more. Stiles' voice cut through his thoughts, though, when he scratched out, "Please, Derek."

Derek rolled his eyes, but stood up and made his way over to the hospital bed. He looked over Stiles, listening to his heartbeat, assuring himself that the human would, in fact, be alright. But he decided it would be a nice gesture to ask, anyway.

"You okay?" The Alpha asked, gruffly.

Stiles coughed out a laugh. "Yeah, man. But could you grab me some water from over there?" He gestured to the sink in the room. There were little cups on the counter, Derek noted. Good. He wasn't planning on leaving Stiles alone again, not for a minute.

Derek made his way over to the sink while Stiles commented on how great it would be to use his injury as an excuse to get out of doing homework, but he suddenly stopped talking. This worried Derek.

He shot a look over his shoulder to look at the teen, and was alarmed to see the boy staring straight ahead, looking pale.

"Stiles…?" He started to question, but broke off when he saw what had captured the human's attention.

The damn hunter was on his feet, and pointing a gun at Stiles.

How the hell did Derek continue to miss such important things? In the woods, he was completely blindsided by a freaking bear trap. Now, Stiles was in mortal peril and he hadn't even noticed the man with the gun get up from the floor. What was wrong with him?

The only logical conclusion he could come up with was the fact that he was so concerned with making sure Stiles was okay, he ignored his senses. It seemed logical if he really thought about it; in the woods, his focus was solely on getting Stiles to the hospital. Now, he wanted to make Stiles comfortable, and he didn't expect any immediate danger to threaten the teen with him right there in the room.

It amazed him how wrong he could be.

Everything happened so quickly that Derek didn't even really have time to process it. Derek heard Stiles attempt to reason with the hunter. Derek saw the hunter look coldly at the boy. And Derek saw the hunter's finger pulling the trigger back.

Before he could even register it, the werewolf was shielding Stiles with his own body, curling himself around the vulnerable teenager, to make sure the bullet wouldn't hit Stiles.

And the bullet did not hit Stiles. In fact, none of them did. All eight bullets ended up lodged in Derek's back, leaving Stiles unscathed.

Derek grunted in pain, but he didn't have time to nurse his wounds. Too much was at stake.

Stiles was on the verge of a panic attack; Derek could tell. But he had to disarm and incapacitate the hunter before he could calm Stiles.

Derek rushed the man, slamming his head into the wall, and ensuring that this time, he would not wake up for quite a while.

He turned back to Stiles, who was still speechless, and now shaking. "Its okay, Stiles. You're okay." Derek soothed, repeating Erica's words from earlier. His hands rested on Stiles' shoulders, keeping the boy grounded.

Stiles' wide eyes met Derek's. "Are you?" He whispered.

Derek choked out what might have been considered a laugh. "I'll be fine. But I've gotta go. The hospital staff heard the commotion, and they're on their way. I can hear them."

Stiles licked his lips, and nodded, looking at the window. "Go. I don't want them asking questions about your miraculous healing."

Derek smiled tightly at the boy, but nodded and quickly made his way to the window.

Just as the Alpha was stepping out, Stiles stopped him. "Thank you, Derek." He said, sincerely.

Derek looked at the boy he'd grown to care for over the past couple of years, and answered honestly, "Anytime."

Derek was only a few feet away when he heard the staff bust into Stiles' room, asking a multitude of questions.

The werewolf honed his senses in on Stiles' voice when he heard the teen speak. "Can someone get me a glass of water?"

Derek laughed out loud.

* * *

Stiles had a hell of a time attempting to explain to the hospital staff what happened.

Eventually, he decided to simply tell them that he was still on painkillers, had no recollection of the incident, and to call his dad.

It worked.

Ms. McCall ordered two of the male orderlies to stand watch over the unconscious intruder until the Sheriff got there. They quickly complied.

Scott's mom whipped out her cell and was on the phone with Stiles' dad in no time, telling him that a man with a gun was currently passed out on the floor of Stiles' hospital room, but Stiles was fine.

Stiles sighed. His poor dad. He'd just left a couple of hours ago (had it even been that long?) and here Stiles was making him worry and come right back to the hospital to deal with another problem that Stiles was in the middle of.

Seriously, he must be the worst son in the world.

Stiles pulled his arm up to run his hand through his hair, accidentally tugging the IV in his arm. He hissed in pain, dropping his limb back to the bed, glumly.

Scott's mom was at his side in an instant. "Hey, sweetie. You okay?" She asked, gently coursing her fingers through his hair and stroking his cheek.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm okay." He lied, not really wanting to talk about his inner-most feelings with his best friend's mom. Even though the woman had been there for him since he was a kid, and helped his dad out so much when Stiles' mom passed away, it was still awkward. It's not like Scott told his mom everything, anyway.

And Ms. McCall seemed to understand this. She smiled knowingly, and simply fixed Stiles' IV and smoothed out his bed sheets. "Look, Stiles…I don't have any idea what is going on right now, to be honest, but I can guarantee you your dad is not going to be angry with you. He won't blame you for anything. Sure, he's worried about you, but I worry every day Scott walks out the door to go to school. That's our job as parents. It's in the manual." She finished, with a quirk of her lips. "I'm gonna give you some more painkillers, honey. You'll feel better."

Stiles let out a breath and nodded. He knew she was right, about the parental advice thing _and_ the painkillers. But still…he wished he didn't keep pulling his dad into this world of werewolves and hunters and supernatural bullshit and…danger.

Stiles leaned back into the pillows and tried to relax. Surprisingly, it was easy, and he soon found himself feeling…light? Yes, that was the perfect way to describe it.

Nurse McCall chuckled at the look on Stiles' face. Stiles could swear he heard her say something about going to meet his dad in the front and that they'd both be back, but he couldn't be sure. So he simply smiled.

And then he fell asleep.

* * *

Stiles was certain he was dreaming at some point, because Scott was standing over him with that worried puppy look he was so good at, Erica was at the foot of his bed simply staring intently at Stiles, Isaac and Boyd were standing protectively at the door of his hospital room, but Stiles' dad and Derek were nowhere to be found.

Stiles blinked blearily. "Dream?" Stiles' scratched out. Christ, he _still_ hadn't gotten that water. "Water." He pleaded, next.

Scott rushed to the sink and was back with the drink for his best friend in moments. The teen wolf looked relieved. "No man…you're awake. How are you?"

Stiles smiled thankfully and gulped down the water. He sighed contently. "I'm good. I'm fine. Did my dad get the hunter? What happened? What did he say?"

Erica shook her head fondly at Stiles. "Everything's okay. Lucky for you, when your dad got the hunter's information, he found out the dude had a rap sheet. He's been in trouble with the law before. It was easy for Scott to "guess" that maybe the guy was only after you because he found out you were the Sheriff's kid."

"But how did you guys explain all the noise? The shots that the hospital staff heard, but the bullets that weren't in me because they were in _Derek's back_?" Stiles asked, exasperated.

"Relax, Stiles. Scott thought of that too. He suggested that maybe the guy was firing blanks to scare you or something." Erica told Stiles, looking at Scott with pride.

Stiles looked at Scott. "You came up with all that, man?" Stiles asked his best friend in awe.

"I _can_ come up with a good idea once in a while!" Scott protested, pretending to be offended.

Isaac and Boyd snickered from the doorway, while Stiles and Erica genuinely laughed.

"Dude, anyway. Your dad is at the station "processing" the hunter or something, and he told me to keep an eye on you. The rest of the pack came too, of course. Now that we know you're okay, we'll just be outside in the waiting room. I'm gonna make sure my mom doesn't come in here or anything, that way Derek can come see you." Scott informed Stiles.

Stiles looked at Scott incredulously. "You can't seriously believe they're going to let him walk in here again. Your mom was the one to let him in before, and then he was MIA when she came in after she heard the shooting! I'm pretty sure she's going to be asking him a lot of questions if she sees him again."

"That's why he won't be coming through the front door." Scott told Stiles, looking pointedly out the window.

Derek was standing there, right outside.

Just staring.

"Holy GOD, WHY DOES HE HAVE TO DO THAT?" Stiles practically shrieked, making the pack burst into laughter.

They took that as their cue to leave. Isaac and Boyd exited the room first, with a "later" and "bye, dude." Erica left next, but not before she hugged Stiles and whispered, "glad you're okay, Batman." Scott patted his best friend on the shoulder and reminded him that they'd all be right outside.

Stiles waited until his friends had all left the room before turning to Derek and motioning for him to hop through the window.

Derek removed his hands from the pockets of his leather jacket and forced the window open, quietly stepping inside the teen's room.

"Derek, you are a _creep_." Stiles said, matter-of-factly.

Derek simply scoffed. "Only because you can't seem to keep out of trouble. Good thing I was there last time."

Stiles reddened a little bit at this. "Speaking of which," he began, "how is your back? Dude, you took like, ten bullets!"

"It was only eight. And I'm fine. Super-fast healing has its perks." Derek informed the human.

Stiles shook his head. He didn't meet Derek's eyes. "Still. It must have hurt. I'm sorry about that."

Derek looked at the boy incredulously. "Are you _crazy_?" The werewolf snapped, moving closer to Stiles.

Stiles jerked his head up, confused. "Excuse me? Um, YOU are the one who reminded me that I'm the reason you were even here in the first place."

Derek deflated, running his hand through his hair. It took him a moment, but he spoke much more softly this time. "No, Stiles. _I'm _sorry. I attacked _you_. I almost _bit _you. I hurt you. I'm the reason you're here at all. The least I could do was protect you from another damn hunter."

Stiles was stunned. "…you DO know none of that was your fault, right? They forced you to change! You couldn't help it! And trust me, Derek…taking eight bullets to the back for me makes us pretty damn even." He grinned.

Derek looked relieved. But Stiles still felt like something was missing.

"Derek? Could you just move the pillow behind me up a little bit?" He asked, innocently.

The Alpha obliged. But just as he was hovering over Stiles to fulfill the request, Stiles pulled Derek into a one-armed hug, careful not to pull the IV still hooked up to his other arm.

Derek froze, but he didn't pull away. Stiles wasn't sure if the werewolf was worried he'd hurt Stiles more, or if he would just hurt Stiles' feelings. But Stiles didn't care.

Then, the wolf surprised him even more, when he awkwardly put his arms around the teen and patted him on the back. Stiles laughed.

"I just wanted to say thanks again, Sourwolf." Stiles mumbled, resting his cheek on Derek's large shoulder.

Derek chuckled. "Anytime, Stiles."


End file.
